Memories
by Max-chan
Summary: Italy had long ago accepted his love was dead. It was too painful not to. But when he meets the mysterious Germany, will he fing hope is still there? GerIta, ChibixHRE, Spamano in later chapters. Rated for yaoi and language. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

"Italy… Holy Rome is…" France hesitated, looking into Italy's wide and innocent hazel eyes. He couldn't do this. He drew back, but Italy's small hand shot out and grabbed his sleeve. "What about Holy Rome?" the tiny nation asked, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. France gulped. "Holy Rome is… he's not… he's not coming back, Italie" "I don't see what you mean, big brother. He's coming back! He promised me he would, and Holy Rome doesn't break promises!" Italy proclaimed, voice steadily getting higher pitched, fiddling with the hem of his apron.

France sighed. "You're in denial, Italy. He's not here anymore, and I think you've known that for a while. It will only be worse if you lie to yourself." Italy bolted out of his chair and ran over to pummel France. "_I'm _lying?" he shrieked angrily, eyes now blank, "don't tell me I'm lying when you obviously… want to take over my land or something! You're not fooling me, France!" Italy suddenly sank to his knees, hands tangled up in his brownish-red hair, sobbing. The little curl of hair that stuck out from the side of his head was now crumpled, as if it were a sliver of discarded paper, thrown into the trashcan.

Hungary stood in the doorway, fingers curled around the doorframe, her usually bright green eyes subdued as tears threatened to fall. She had never in her life seen Italy like this; he was always so bright and happy. Of course, after Holy Rome left, he was a little more sad and quiet, but he never screamed incoherent things in Italian or tore his hair out as he was doing now. She bit her lip. She absolutely had to do something, but as soon as she took a step to enter the room, a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

Spain silently shook his head, eyes troubled. _Why is he here? _She thought warily. As if reading her mind, he whispered, "Austria told me about what happened. I figured someone needed to help the poor kid, so I brought Roma. Lord knows they don't get along all the time, but still, they're brothers, so I thought he could try to cheer him up." Hungary nodded, just noticing the small child standing at her knee-level. He glared up at her, hissing "Can I go in now? It may not seem like it, but I really don't like my fratello looking like he's about to lose it." "Mmhm" she agreed absentmindedly.

Romano rushed to his brother, grabbing the youngers tear-stained face and yelling 'Fratellino, quello che ti avevo detto? Ti ho detto di non cadere per quel ragazzo. Ma non preoccuparti, trovero il bastardo di maledetto chi lo ha ucciso e prendersi cura di lui, va bene?" Italy nodded miserably and grasped the front of Romano's shirt, sobbing onto it. "Ma… Penso che avrei potuto amarlo…" Romano looked taken aback, and bit his lip. "Well… whose damn fault is that, fratellino?" he decided on saying, but his eyes were sympathetic.

France, in the meantime, managed to escape the room, looking shaken. He and Austria, who had come from the living room, joined Hungary and Spain by the door. The four adult nations watched in silence as Romano somehow managed to cheer up his twin a little. When he was finished, Romano marched over to Spain and grabbed the elder's leg possessively. "Roma, that was amazing!" he cried happily, "how come you're never like that to me?" The child scowled. "First of all, my name isn't Roma, so don't call me that! Also, you're a perverted Tomato Bastard and not my brother, so I won't be cheering you up anytime soon, an it's not like anyone would love you, so I doubt you'll ever have Veneziano's problem." He said, turning away from Spain and flushing, eyes softening slightly.

When Italy walked past her, Hungary picked up Italy, whose eyes were red and was sniffing, and hugged him very close, murmuring sweetly in Hungarian. "It will be okay," she whispered, smoothing back his mussed hair. He nodded and squeezed his eyes shut to prevent more tears from falling.

A couple of hundred years later, Italy was crammed into one of his brother's empty tomato crates, shaking. He wasn't paranoid; there really were footsteps all around him! (Of course, that's what he'd been thinking for the last 3 hours, but that's beside the point…) Someone tapped on the box, and he yelped loudly in fright, then wrapped his fingers around his mouth to stop anymore outbursts.

But it was too late. The intruder heard him. "I think there's someone in here!" he proclaimed, and Italy heard the lid groan. He panicked. "No, there's no one in here! I'm just… the box of tomatoes fairy!" The lid of the box continued to creak. He prayed fervorently in Italian. When the lid burst off, Italy burst out screaming, "NO! Please don't shoot me! I have family in-" He cracked his eyes open to see if he could guess where the intruder was from, and almost fainted in shock. "Holy Ro-" he caught himself. There was no way this person was Holy Rome, no matter how much they looked alike. He had long ago accepted his friend was dead. (And really, the HRE never really had a capital, so Italy was never really sure if he were immortal or not…)

"Bayern! Si, I have family in Bayern, so don't shoot me!" Italy cried out. The Holy-Rome look-alike (Italy guessed he was German) pulled away. "Say… are you by chance related to the great Rome?" Italy suddenly got excited. Maybe France nii-chan really had lied and Holy Rome was alive and remembered him! "Si! I'm Italy, his grandson!" He told the person, explaining more about himself, hoping maybe he would remember or something. The person frowned. "I'm Germany".

Italy gasped quietly, reaching a hand out to pull himself out of the godforsaken crate. Hadn't Holy Rome had Germany in his name at some point? Italy was fairly sure. He straightened himself out and smoothed down his tan uniform absentmindedly, fingering at his collar. He was now sure this Germany fellow was somehow his Holy Rome, from listening to him speak and how he looked. And Italy was determined to make him remember…

Story: Memories

Author: Max-chan

Word Count (w/o End Notes): 1,045

Summary: Italy had long ago accepted his love was gone. But when he meets the mysterious Germany, what he had long thought to be true is challenged. Is Holy Rome really alive and well? GerIta, ChibixHRE, if you think they're different XD.

Translations: _Fratellino, quello che ti avevo detto? Ti ho detto __di non cadere per quel ragazzo. Ma non preoccuparti, trovero il bastardo di maledetto chi lo ha ucciso e prendersi cura di lui, va bene? =_ Little brother, what did I tell you? I told you never to fall for that boy. But don't worry, I'll find the goddamned bastard who killed him and take care of them, okay? (Note: Literally, va bene means fine, but I'm using it as okay, 'K?)

Ma… Penso che avrei potuto amarlo…_ = But… I think I might have loved him…_

Italian is so pretty. If I got to choose a language to take next year, I would choose it. However, since we're like, 100 or so miles (more or less) from the border with Mexico, and a whole crap-ton of people here speak Spanish, I'm being forced to learn it. : They're very similar languages, people! I could most likely figure out Spanish if I knew Italian, arrgh! XD, Enough ranting. _Et je pourrais vous deplacer en France… _because we're going there in a couple of months! My Mom's fluent, though… in Spanish, Italian, and French! /le gasp/

Spell Check hates me right now… vaffanculo, Spell Check. F you. Good God, this is a long note. /Cough cough 278 words/

R&R! Reviews are appreciated! Should I continue this? :/

~Max-chan


	2. Chapter 2

16 Years Later

Italy curled up in his bed, adjusted his pillow. But nothing would work. He just couldn't sleep. Sitting up, he smoothed down his hair and frowned. Why did everyone call him the oblivious one? I mean, he had been dropping hints at Germany for the last sixteen years about his past, but still nothing. Just occasional flashes of recognition in his steely blue eyes, gone as fast as they came. Wouldn't that make Germany the oblivious one?

He really needed to talk to someone about it, but who? France would make it something it wasn't, Spain-nii would be sweet about it, but he was far too oblivious to really solve any problems, with Austria it would be awkward, and Miss Hungary would either get a massive nosebleed just thinking about the possibilities or deny that Holy Rome was alive, depending on the day.

He curled his knees up to his chest and hugged them, biting his lip. That pretty much left his brother. Well, there would be a possibility he would be helpful, right? He had helped him feel better after France delivered the devastating (but false?) news of Holy Rome's death, and maybe he would be slightly more empathetic now that (Italy thought) he had something going on with Spain? It was worth a shot.

So, steeling his nerves, he unwrapped himself from his pathetic position and grabbed a T-shirt and a jacket and pulled them on. (Meh-uniform be damned, he wasn't going to do much today) He just remembered to snatch his keys as he headed out the door, humming a rhythm-less tune mindlessly.

Even though it was autumn, his lovely peninsula was sunny and cloudless, though it was a bit chilly out, hence the jacket. He tilted back his head and closed his hazel eyes, enjoying the cool breeze. Unfortunately, Roma's place wasn't too far from his own, so the walk was quick.

He knocked on his twin's door, hoping he would answer. (With Romano, you never knew…) To his surprise Spain opened the door. "Oh, hola, Ita-chan" he said, stretching and letting out a massive yawn, green eyes watering slightly. "Ciao, nii-san." Italy replied, still wondering why Spain was here. "Mm, come on in. I'm sure Roma won't mind" Spain declared, stepping out of the entryway to let Italy in. Italy dipped his head and entered, shedding his coat and following Spain to an old, beaten down couch. Spain plopped right down on it and shouted, "Roma! Your brother is here, so bring your lazy ass out of that bedroom and come talk to him!"

There was an over exaggerated groan, followed by a steady stream of profanity in Italian, Spanish, and a few in English. "So," Spain went on, as if nothing had happened, "you don't look so well, Italy. Big bags" he motioned to under his eyes. "Have ya been sleeping?" Italy shook his head. For the last couple of weeks, all he had been thinking about was how to get Germany to remember the past. His boss was beyond frustrated, but you can't really fire a nation and get a replacement; it just doesn't work like that. So at least he had a job.

Spain cocked his head. "Are ya gonna tell me exactly why this is?" Once again, Italy shook his head. Spain sighed. "Right. I thought so. You're going to tell Roma?" No answer was needed or given. Just then, aforementioned nation stumbled into the room, brown hair a mess, still cursing murderously. "Shit, you better have a damn good reason for waking me up this early, assholes!" He flung himself down on he couch and apparently thought Italy wouldn't notice him holding Spain's hand, because that's what he did.

"Oh, I need to talk to you, fratello. Alone." he added, just unless Spain hadn't gotten the message in their earlier conversation. Romano frowned and blew some hair out of his face. "Alright, I guess. It better me good, though" Spain nodded and pulled himself off the couch, leaving the general vicinity.

"You look like shit," Romano said. "What happened? I blame the Potato Eater." Italy flushed and looked down. Was his lack of sleep that noticeable? "Well, I kind of guess he has something to do with-" "Aha!" Romano interrupted, "it was that retarded, muscled, brawny asswipe." He grinned like he had won a great battle.

"No, just- I- ugh! Do you remember Holy Rome?" Italy asked, sinking into the couch and hoping it would swallow him up. His brother's grin morphed into a frown. "Of course. He's the bastard who had the gall to break your heart." Italy nodded miserably, a single tear leaking out of his eye. Deciding to skip asking if he knew who Germany was, (he did, by the way ;)) Italy skipped right to the heart of the matter. "I don't think he died." Romano looked amused. "Then you're an idiot. France SAW him. And where would he have gone, anyways? There's no Holy Roman Empire on the map anymore."

"Unless he forgot his past and goes by a different name" There was a deathly silence. "You're not-?"

"I am"

Italy leaned forward, deadly serious. "And I want to make him remember." Romano shook his head. "Don't- you'll just end up more hurt than last time. We're fascist, he's got his Nazi Party… in short, the rest of Europe isn't gonna deal for much longer, and we could very well lose that war. Things would be worse than the whole Thirty Years War thing. DON'T DO IT." he reinforced, unconsciously switching over to Italian.

"But-" Italy called out desperately, "if Spain-nii suddenly forgot you, wouldn't you want to make him remember?" Romano flushed "Well, si, but he wouldn't do that. He-he loves me" A thousand arguments flew through Italy's mind. _Do you think I knew he wouldn't come back? Do you think he didn't love me? _But all that came out was a distressed "Yeah, well how do you know that? He could just want to screw you!"

He regretted the words instantly, knowing they weren't true. (He had seen the looks) Romano turned red from either anger or embarrassment. (Probably both.) Italy flinched, expecting a slap or something, but one never came. His brother just sat there, staring at him coldly. "At least the person I love knew my damn name when I saw him after I left his house." Italy clenched his fists at his sides and stood up. "Grazi, Romano. You were a great help." He put all the sarcasm he could muster into the last two words, heading towards the door. "So glad I could be of assistance" his brother replied through clenched teeth. Italy reached the door, angrily snatching up his jacket and throwing it over his shoulders. And not another word was said.

. . .

When the door closed behind him, Italy sank against it and sobbed quietly. Why would he say that to his brother? Why the _hell _would Romano respond with that, of all things to say? He felt as if someone had ripped out his already broken, stupid heart and stomped on it, just for laughs. He should have just shut up and not told anyone about his problems. And why had he thought he could tell his perpetually rude brother I the first place? Just like he had earlier in the morning, he pulled his knees up to his chest and clutched onto them, still crying, when the door swung open from behind him, causing him to tumble backwards into the house.

He lay there in a daze for a moment, then pulled himself up into a sitting position, rubbing his head, which already felt bruised. Concerned green eyes looked down on him. "Dude, what were you two talking about? Roma wouldn't even look at me before he went off to skulk, and you are out here sobbing your little heart out." Italy sniffled and rubbed his eyes. "I don't want to talk about it, Spain-nii. Mi dispiace." He replied in regretful Italian.

Spain pulled him up by his arm and steered him by his shoulders over to the couch again. He squirmed, but was nonetheless pushed onto a worn cushion. "No. You're telling me what's making Roma and you so moody."

"But-"

"No buts, I deserve to know, don't you think?" Italy bit his lip and nodded. Maybe big brother Spain wasn't as oblivious as he previously thought. "Well, I came to tell him that I thought Holy Rome didn't actually die, and somehow he is actually Germany, and forgot. I know it sounds stupid, but I believe it with all of my heart." Spain looked thoughtful. "Then why are you asking about it? I assume you have a plan, right? If you really believe in it that much, then it's really something beautiful, and you should listen to yourself-" he smiled, "because you're usually right, deep inside."

"But that's the problem! I'm never right! I just cause problems for everyone around me and hurt myself. I'm absolutely worthless." He hung his head in shame, his reddish-brown hair hiding the tears forming in his eyes. Spain reached over and hugged him. "No, I think we're almost always right, we just second-guess ourselves and convince ourselves otherwise. That's just the amazing but frustrating part of being a human or nation."

Italy laughed lightly and pulled away, wiping his eyes with the sleeve over his wrist. "Beautiful words, nii-chan, very touching. I think you just might have convinced me to go through with this crazy plan in my head." Spain grinned and stood, heading for the kitchen. "Well, it's my job to convince people to do insane things. I did manage to convince your currently pissed brother to go out with me, which he though would endanger his life for some reason." He laughed and grabbed an old yellow, chipped mug from a cabinet at eye-level, "I wasn't actually supposed to tell anyone that, but hell, it's cool with you, right, Ita-chan?"

Italy nodded. "Si. We all knew it was coming, anyway. It may not seem like it most of the time because he tries to keep up the whole 'I-have-the-mafia-so-don't-screw-with-me' façade, but you really do make him happy." Spain flushed and ran a hand through his curly brown hair. "Um, anyways, d'ya want some coffee? We could discuss this crazy plan of yours and maybe make it work?"

"I would like that very much"

. . .


	3. Chapter 3

I'm so sorry this took so long! (Even though it's summer, this week was a bitch to my family and I TT^TT) The only upside to the super-wait is that this chapter is the longest anything I've posted, nearing 3,000 words, I believe. Also, everyone is more in-character, so yays. But here's the final installment of Memories! Yaoi a bit later… = v =, no smut though… I've tried, trust me. I fail. Human names are used almost all the time in this one.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Romano looked on, quite amused, at the sight before him. His retard of a brother was staring up, dead-eyed, at some thick, leather-bound book that looked decidedly boring, while Antonio was staring at the screen of his laptop with the same expression (or lack thereof) on his face. Both were sprawled out lazily on various pieces of squishy furniture.

Snickering, he grabbed two tomatoes from a bowl on the counter and flopped down in an unoccupied recliner. By the looks of them, they had pulled an all-nighter. But… doing what?

He took a bite of his fruit. "So… you bastards have a sudden interest in furthering your knowledge in the world around you, or some shit like that?" Feliciano jumped and shrieked, dropping his book. "Ve~ Lovi, you're up…" He trilled after he had recovered, skimming through the book to find his lost page.

"No shit? I'm surprised you managed to even get that, though. Actually, I wasn't even sure if you could rea-" He was interrupted by Antonio, who leaned over the arm of their couch and pecked him on the lips, then pulled away before he could be slapped, grinning. "Roma, be nice~!"

"Like hell-! Being nice is for idiot bastards like you two! And what have you been doing all night anyways?"

Feliciano's eyes lit up as he displayed the volume in his hands._ So Deutschen zu Verstehen: Fur Anhanglich Italiener._ Romano's eye twitched. "Feli… is that title in… GERMAN?" The younger bobbed his head happily. "And tell me, fratello, when, where, and from whom did you learn goddamned GERMAN?"

Confused, Feli shrugged. "Why do you keep yelling the word German? And anyway, I'm not exactly sure when or where, but Ludwig and Gil taught me. The book is called 'Understanding Germans: For Clingy Italians'"

Once again, the elder Italian twitched. "That sounds oddly specific, don'tcha think?" Antonio started laughing. "Yeah, 'cause Elizaveta brought it over. That girl… knows when you need some weird crap." Lovino snorted and slung his legs over the arm of his chair. "Fucking pervert is what she is. She and Kiku, they get nosebleeds watching the damn grass grow if they think something gay will happen there."

"Mmm~ but they call it 'yaoi', not 'something gay'. Anyway, back on topic, Feli and I decided that he's gonna convince Ludwig he's Holy Rome, and- OH, SHIT, FELI, TOMORROW IS VALENTINE'S DAY!"

Feliciano hopped up and down happily. "It's perfect! Perfecto! Except-" His face fell- "Last San Valentino, he started being really weird and for a couple of seconds, he remembered…"

"Oi, Feli?"

"Si?"

"Please be annoyingly happy again, you being depressed is worse."

"O-okay, Lovi"

Antonio came over and patted the brownish-red haired boy on the shoulder. "Ah, Feli, this year it will work. I can FEEL it." He fisted a hand over his heart and closed his eyes, nodding. "With what, your tomato senses?" Lovino replied scathingly.

He chucked his last tomato at the Spaniard, who caught it with his free hand, eyes still closed, and took a massive bite. Secretly, Romano was impressed. Veneziano, however, was more vocal about it, whooping a clapping loudly. "Whoa! Go Spain-nii-san!"

Antonio bowed. "Si, my tomate senses were tingling!" Lovino face-palmed. "Jesus Christ, you two are such fucking dumbasses. And, anyway, how are you going to make it work this year?"

Antonio and Feliciano shrugged simultaneously. "How am I supposed to know?"  
"Must I repeat…? Fucking dumbasses…"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

^1 DAY LATER- FEBRUARY 14^

Ludwig had a serious headache. Roderich was playing loudly on his piano, Gilbert was yelling loudly about being awesome, and Elizaveta was squealing loudly over something or other, probably getting blood all over his freshly cleaned carpet. Yes, it was all very loud.

And of course, the phone took that moment to scream into his ear, naturally. He pinched the bridge of his nose and picked up the receiver. "Ve~ Ludwig, ciao!"

"Guten morgen, Feliciano."

"Aw~ So formal, Luddy!"

"I'm not Alfred, Feli. Being formal means you are being polite in my country."

He could hear Feliciano ve-ing like mad, Romano cursing, and Antonio fusosososo~ing in the background. Mein Gott, it was so loud, everywhere!

"Well, anyways, do you know what day it is?" Feliciano giggled.

"Erm… It's Tuesday, Italien. Why do you need to know?" When did the cute- um, little, yes. He didn't really mean to say cute- Italian ever care about the date or time or even year? His day went something like this:

1.) Wake Up and Bother Ludwig by Being Completely ador- Annoying Time

2.) Pasta Time Uno!

3.) Play With Kitties Time!

4.) Do Some Useful Training With Doitsu Time

5.) Pasta Time Due!

6.) Go Bother Someone Time

7.) Siesta Time!

8.) Pasta Time Tre!

9.) Somehow End Up In Ludwig's Bed Time

Yes, it was a never-ending, vicious cycle. Anyway, back to the present topic, the brunette on the other end just giggled still. "No, silly Luddy! It's Valentine's Day~"

Well, he certainly didn't want to repeat last years disaster of a Valentines Day… it was a very confusing time indeed, and the German preferred things to make sense and be organized, thank you very much.

"And…?" Damn, that was the only thing he could think to say.

"Well… do ya wanna come over to my place for dinner? I'll make wurst for you if you want, and pasta for me."  
"Ja, sounds good to me. What time would you like me over?" Wait, he didn't even check his schedule; what was wrong with him? What if he had had something planned that evening? (A little voice in the back of his head told him that he would have cancelled it, but he ignored the pesky little bugger.)

"Um, 19:00, I guess? Sometime around there is good."

The overly time-conscious German almost popped a vein at that. "I need an exact time, Feliciano!"

Yelping was heard on the other end of the line, followed by a crash and something in muffled Italian. "Ve~ You're being scary again, Doitsu! Anyway, 19:00, on the second, if it makes you happy, ve~"

"Alright, see you at 19:00, Feliciano."

And he was smiling, despite himself.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Bruder, why are you dressed up like that?" Prussia drawled out, slouching against the couch and eying Ludwig's suit. Hungary scooted away from him and trilled happily, clapping her hands together. "He has a date with our little Feli! And I may or may not be lurking out in the bushes with Kiku and my camera… tee hee!"

Roderich glared at her from his position on the loveseat. "You will do no such thing, Elizaveta. No decent young lady hides in bushes and stalks people. And anyway, give Ludwig his privacy."

Elizaveta grumbled something about not being such a 'decent young lady' and left the room. Meanwhile, Ludwig was blushing madly, looking quite mortified. "It is not a DATE. We are just friends!"

Gilbert snorted. "Yeah, right. And I'm not totally and completely awesome."

"And even I have to say you two are a little… closer than friends usually are" Roderich admitted.

"Yeah, it's really adorable~ You two are like, perfect together!" Elizaveta squealed from the other room. Then, everyone heard her whisper, "Yeah, Keeks, Luddy and Feli are gonna be on a daaate~ And that _baka_ Roddy won't let me go, so you'll have to- Oh yeah, I'll get my revenge on those two later, don't you worry!"

"SPECS! Look what you have done by not letting her go stalk them! We are going to be tied up, forced into some dress or something, and then pictures of us are gonna be posted on my blog, or something equally horrible!" Gilbert complained, getting up and shaking the Austrian's shoulders roughly.

"Well, it's better than her stalking your brother-"

"NO IT ISN'T!"

Ludwig sighed and sat down. He was very early, anyway. "Elizaveta, we can all hear you from here. The phone room really isn't all too far from the living room."

The girl giggled. "Okay, so you CAN'T COME, KIKU?" she made sure to holler the last words, as if they would believe them. "DARN, THAT'S TOO BAD. Bucsu, Kiku, see you later." There was a click, and then Elizaveta sat down next to Roderich, as if nothing even slightly out of the ordinary had occurred.

"What?" she asked, once she had noticed that everyone in the room's eyes were trained on her.

Ludwig shook his head. "You're just… so… I don't really know, but you are kind of, scary. Ja, scary fits well, I think." ((Oh, Luddy, the term you're looking for here is 'rabid, crazed yaoi fangirl' ;D)) She bared her teeth playfully and growled. "Igen, I'm absolutely terrifying. Ever since my birth, you silly boys have flocked in masses to me, saw my general scariness, and then fled out of fear." She proclaimed grandly, arms flying about her in a wild manner as she momentarily turned Italian and relied on hand motions to relay the majority of her story.

Gilbert snickered. "If I remember it correctly, which I did since I'm the awesome me and keep record of these things, we were all like 'whoa, there is another gender?' When were you born, 800 maybe?"

"Yeah, somewhere around that time." She agreed, "and don't be silly. There were plenty of human girls then, and Heracles and Gupta both had mothers like us."

"Yeah, but hardly any of us are THAT old, we didn't remember those two." Gil insisted, and somehow, after that, in the time span of about 3 minutes, it turned into an all-out screaming war.

Ludwig used that to his advantage, slipping out the house before Gilbert and Elizaveta could hound him about his da- um, dinner with a friend- again. Besides, if he was to be there at 19:00 exactly, he needed to get going!

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Just as Feliciano suspected, as soon as his clock hit 19:00, there was a knock at his door. He grinned briefly and pulled an oven mitt off his hand, then opened the door. "Ciao, Ludwig! How are you, ve~? It's been a while; too long!" He greeted energetically, reaching up to hug his German friend.

"Allo, Feliciano, danke for inviting me, and I'm doing well, thanks." He said quickly, almost as if he were… nervous? But Germany never got nervous, or so Italy thought.

Feliciano stepped out of the doorway to allow Ludwig in.

"Dinner will be ready in about 5 minutes, so do you want anything to drink?" he asked happily, motioning for Ludwig to take a seat on the couch. "Water's fine, thank you" Feliciano nodded and headed of to the kitchen, grabbing a glass from a cabinet and filing it. Then he skipped back, careful not to spill the beverage, and handed it to his friend, sitting down next to him. "You know, ya don't have to be so formal, Luddy! I mean we're friends, and it's important to have fun every once in a while, right?"

The German smiled slightly and relaxed his posture. "Yeah, suppose it is." And so the two of them talked for a while, discussing everything from ways to cook pasta and potatoes to weird brothers and creepers that might be lurking out their window. (After that particular topic, they had shut the blinds, just in case Kiku or Elizaveta were out there.)

Then, a bell rang out from somewhere to their right, and Feliciano jumped. "Oh! It's our dinner!" He leapt up and ran into the kitchen, leaving behind a quite baffled Ludwig. There were a couple of strange and rather disturbing crashes and bangs from he room, before the Italian trotted in with plates laden with… something. It was probably food, though Ludwig had no idea what kind of food it was.

"Wurst pasta! With potatoes and tomatoes!" he proclaimed proudly, setting down the dishes. (Ludwig struggled to not point out the fact that there were a lot of carbohydrates in that meal.)

And for such an odd combination, it certainly was very delicious. "Does it taste alright?" Feliciano asked rather apprehensively. "O, Ja, very delicious!" Ludwig replied, taking another bite. The brunette visibly relaxed at that, forking up some of the dish and trying it himself. "Oh si, it's definitely better than I thought it would be!"

From there, they started some mundane conversation abut the fact that wurst originated in China before Feliciano random blurted out, "Luddy, what were you like as a kid?" Ludwig blinked, and then a sad look filled his eyes. "I don't know." He answered honestly, "my earliest memory was when I woke up one day and mein Bruder was leaning over me and looking worried. I was probably 13 or 14 then." A strange and unreadable look passed over the Italian's eyes at that, but soon they turned their normal cheerful amber. "What were _you _like as a child, Feli?"

"Well," he started off slowly, "I don't remember being with Grandpa Rome all that much, just that he was very kind to me and let me do whatever I pleased all day long. Then one day, he just never came back, and Lovi and I were on our own for a couple of days before Mr. Roderich and Miss Elizaveta came to pick us up from Grandpa's place.

"We were both pretty hungry and sick by then, so they helped us get better, and gave us clothes and whatnot. It was funny, because I think that they both thought I was a girl, cause they gave me a little green dress with an apron and a bandana. Well, after a couple of days, Austria god tired of Lovi cursing and only talking in Italian and eating tomatoes, so he was sent to Spain with Antonio. Then I found out that there was another kid in the house.

"His name was Holy Roman Empire, and at first, he scared me. He would follow me around all the time and hardly ever spoke to me. But then, he kinda grew on me. He would leave pasta out for me because I wasn't allowed any, and he would come paint pictures with me and whatnot. But Big Brother France picked a fight with him, and he had to leave us to go to war.

"But before he left, he told me he loved me, and for a very long time, too. And then I gave him my deck brush, a-and we kissed." Feliciano paused and leaned closer to Ludwig. "Like this" he whispered, pressing their lips together. Ludwig jumped at first, but then relaxed into the kiss. But then, he jerked away, holding his head. "Ah- Italy, you-"

He looked at the other, then inclined his head so that their foreheads rested together. Feliciano took his hand. "Then he told you he would come back, right?" The Italian nodded, crying in pure joy. "And I didn't, or at least not until way later. Not until you saw him when he pulled you out of a tomato crate."

This time, Ludwig started the kiss, capturing the brunette's lips with his own. To his surprise, the other's tongue flicked out and licked his lower lip. He opened his mouth a bit, and Feli's tongue entered it, feeling around, tasting. Somehow, the smaller nation ended up in his lap, arms wrapped around his middle, pulling them closer together. However, the mutual need for air forced the two apart. Looking embarrassed, Feli slid off his lap, but their fingers will still twined together.

"But don't worry about having forgotten. I'll love you always, no matter what name you go by, or if you know it or not. I'll never forget you."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Blaa- the ending sucks. I hate it. But I had no other ideas, so here you go. I'll try not to ramble for too long. This was about 2,700 words, so, woo, longest thing I've ever written. And now all my real series are done, so I can stop stressing. Be looking forward to more, though!

~Max-chan


End file.
